I'll Be Home For Christmas
by chinocoop81
Summary: It's Christmas, and Elena realizes where home has been all along. Stelena. Slight spoilers for 4x09. One shot.


**Note: **_**This slightly incorporates a spoiler for 4x09, but I just use it as a brief mention more than anything else. I also obviously made up the ring thing. Hope it works.**_

**Song to listen to while reading**_**: **__I'll Be Home for Christmas by Burl Ives_

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Vampire Diaries. If I did, I don't think I'd be writing fan fiction about it.

Stefan Salvatore hadn't celebrated Christmas in over a century except for last year with Elena and her family. He was a vampire; he had no reason to. If you took Christmas religiously, Stefan knew Jesus and God probably hated him and he would go to hell for being the monster he was; and if you took it as just a holiday with friends and family – well, he didn't _have _friends or family. Only Damon and Lexi, and thanks to one, the other had died.

Last year he had thought Christmas could be magical again. For the first time in a hundred and forty five years, he had a reason to _celebrate_ and cherish the holiday. He was in love with the most amazing girl. The crazy thing was – she loved him too. She was his entire world, and her eyes glowed with happiness and peace for once on that magical day. Her hair falling into her eyes, the brilliant twinkling lights on the tree reflecting in her eyes, her easy, bubbly laughter as everyone exchanged presents was one of his favorite memories of all time. In a way only Elena could cause, he felt _alive_.

Except, now that was all over.

He poured some bourbon into a glass and pursed his lips together before downing the smooth liquid. He relished the burn, the warmth in his belly, and poured himself another. He lowered himself slowly into the brown leather couch and stared at the burning fire, resting his glass on his knee as he just stared, trying to stop the video reel of memories in his mind: his first remembered Christmas when he was three and his mother still lived; his first Christmas after her death; the year Damon told him Santa didn't exist and he cried for hours until his father told him to stop; the last Christmas of his human life, Damon off in the army and his father's silence at their elaborately small dinner together; his first Christmas as a vampire; his last Christmas with Lexi; the feel of Elena's fingernails digging into his skin last year as they made love in the soft glow of the Christmas lights she strung in his room; the awe in her eyes searched deep into his soul the moment they both came.

He hated Christmas. He hated everything about Christmas. The lights. The snow. The smiles and laughter. The candy canes and wreaths and ornaments. The smell of pine trees. He had loved Christmas as a human, loved everything about it – the smells, the sights, the magic and love. But now that he had lost it all, lost _everything _that ever mattered to him, he _hated _Christmas. He _hated everything_. He felt so horrible he just wanted to _die_.

He thought of Elena, and it made him _angrier._ Elena and Damon. Damon and Elena. The thought of them made him _sick_. Taking away Lexi was one thing, but _this?_ _Elena_? His _everything_? The _only _thing he _loved_? He swallowed hard and blinked harder, not letting himself cry. He was _tired _of crying. Of _feeling_. Why couldn't he just turn it _off_? After everything, he had turned his humanity back on for Elena, but it hadn't been enough. _He _hadn't been enough.

But he couldn't. Even though she had shattered his heart, he couldn't stop feeling. He _wouldn't_ become that monster. The ripper. He wouldn't give anyone the _satisfaction _of that. He would find the cure, would save her from herself, and then he would leave. Go somewhere. Anywhere. Live his existence alone, the only way he ever would be. The only way he could be. The only way he belonged.

His thoughts went back to Damon and Elena at her parents' lake house, and he couldn't stop the familiar pang and fresh wave of memories of he and Elena there when she still loved _him_. Because even though she insisted it was about helping Jeremy, he knew it was more than that. They were more than that. Damon was in heaven, and Stefan was in hell, and damn't, why couldn't they _both _be happy _for once_?

Stefan stood and downed the last of the bourbon before angrily throwing the glass into the fire. He relished the sound of the breaking glass, the roaring fire, the violence of the moment. He relished _something else_ breaking instead of _him._ He was _always_ breaking.

He turned to go grab another bottle, but Elena's soft brown eyes stopped him in his tracks. "Elena?" he breathed, staring into her eyes. How could he not have heard her? He was a _vampire _for goodness sakes. Then again, this could be a hallucination. "I'm not _that _drunk am I?" he found himself saying aloud, and she tilted her head in confusion.

"You're drunk?" She asked, her eyes betraying her disapproval. Her worry. And it didn't make sense, because she had made her decision. She had left. And where was Damon?

"I'm not sober," he said with a bitter smile.

"Is that why you threw that glass?" she asked quietly, and he knew he should feel embarrassed for his anger, but he _wasn't_.

"You know why I threw the glass," he said bluntly, his body finally working enough so he could walk. He rounded the couch and brushed past her, going in search of another bottle.

She followed him. "Stefan…" She began, but he cut her off.

Opening another bottle and pouring himself a drink, he said, "How's Jeremy?"

"Good, actually." He could hear the relief in her voice, and it soothed him. Despite everything, he didn't want her worried. "Bonnie found a way to calm him down. She did some spell. I don't know what exactly…but it worked."

He nodded, downing the glass quickly. He couldn't even feel the burn anymore. "And Damon?" He poured himself another glass. "Where is he?"

She sighed, playing with her hands. "Stefan…"

"I mean, it's Christmas. I'm sure you two should be spending it…together." He clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly to keep his composure. He gulped down half the glass, refusing to meet her gaze. "I mean, let's not kid each other Elena, that's why you went to the lake house. That's why he went with you. To get away from all this." He clenched his jaw again, his heart hurting like hell in his chest. "To get away from me."

She remained silent for a long time, long enough for him to finish his glass and start pouring another. She gently placed it over his, making him pause. "Stefan, stop."

"Why, Elena?" He pulled away from her, not liking how her touch made him lose all logic and reason, how he could feel her in every single cell of his body.

"Because you're drunk," she quietly accused.

"And you're with Damon," he softly retorted, as if it were the same thing. He saw the hurt in her eyes and shook his head, needing to get away from her. He didn't want to feel guilty. He didn't want to _feel_. "Look, I'll just go to my room and let you two be alone." He ground his teeth together, brushing past her again, needing to breathe air that didn't smell like her.

She quickly reached out to grab his arm, pulling on it so he had to turn and face her. "Stefan, Damon isn't here. Don't you see that?" She let go of him and gestured at the empty space in the house. "It's only me… and you."

Her eyes burned into his, but he didn't show any emotion, just stared back. "Then where is he?"

"He's back at the lake house with Jeremy and Bonnie. He is going to drive them home tomorrow." She watched for a reaction, but he didn't have any. "I took a cab back here. Can you believe they have them running on Christmas Eve?"

"Elena…" he said, bringing her back to the present. "Why would you do that?"

She met his eyes, then turned and took a few steps away, playing with her hands nervously. "Do you remember last Christmas Eve? Jenna and Jeremy went to bed and it was just us downstairs by the tree with all those presents." She turned around now and saw he was staring at her intently, his sole focus on her despite the pain of remembering. Just like whenever she was in the room, she captivated him. She was his entire world. "You told me I couldn't open all of them until morning, and I kept protesting."

He remembered it very vividly. He had grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her softly with all those sparkling lights blinking on the tree. She had wrapped her arms around him, playing with the hair on the back of his neck as she giggled and kissed him back. "I remember," he said quietly, his gaze falling to the floor.

"You told me I could open one present, and walked to your jacket and pulled out a little square box. I was so excited. I ripped it open, and I found this." She lifted her daylight ring, and he lifted his eyes to stare at it on her hand, remembering her face when she first laid eyes on it.

"You looked at me like I had made the earth with my own two hands," he said with a sad smile, wondering when she had last stared at him like that. He missed it. He missed it more than living, more than breathing, more than anything else in his entire life.

She didn't say anything for a minute, and he couldn't bring himself to lift his eyes to hers. Their love, their connection - it was long gone. She had chosen Damon. She had chosen _wrong_. "I was sitting there with Damon after Bonnie and Jeremy went to bed…"

He shook his head, taking a step back as if she had slapped him. "Elena, I said I would be understanding, but I…"

She cut him off. "I saw the ring. The one _you _bought me. The one that I have to wear _forever_ if I want to have any semblance of a normal life." She took a step toward him; he could feel it without seeing it, feel her body closer to his. "I told Damon I had to go. I called a cab. He _understood_."

"But why, Elena? Why now? You got what you wanted. You got Damon. We tried and you turned to him." He couldn't stop the emotion from tangling into his voice, from constricting his soul. He hurt. He hurt so damn much. "At the end of the day, you chose him, Elena. You should be with _him_."

"That night, a year ago, you slid the ring onto my finger and we danced to the song playing on the radio. Do you remember that song, Stefan?" He could feel her eyes on him. It made his entire body burn. Just being in the same room as her was electrifying.

"No," he lied, even though he remembered _everything _about that night.

She knew he was lying. He knew this, and she knew he knew it. She stepped closer to him. "'I'll Be Home for Christmas.' You held me close and I rested my head on your chest. Do you remember what you whispered to me?"

He clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly. He stared at her shoes as he murmured, "I said, 'For the first time in a hundred and forty five years, I'm home_. You're_ home.' But Elena, that was a year ago. Things have changed. I've changed. _You've_ changed."

"Stefan, look at me," she said, stepping forward and placing her hands on his arms. He finally lifted his gaze, and paused at the look in her eye. The awe. The amazement. That look of hers like he had created the earth with his two hands, and would protect her despite everything. "It took me way too long to realize it, and I'm so incredibly sorry, Stefan. I'm so, so sorry. But…" She looked down and reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. He stared into her eyes with his own awe, because he couldn't believe this. He had drunk too much. He was actually sleeping. This was a dream.

She stared at him like she hadn't _seen _him in months. And he stared at her like she was the most impressive thing in the world. "Stefan, _you _are home. I've been fighting this entire time trying to find it, trying to find _myself_, and I've been looking in the wrong place." She leaned her face closer to his. "I'm _so _sorry I didn't realize it before, but I… it's the cheesiest thing I've ever said, but I…"

He leaned in and kissed her before she could finish. She didn't take long to react, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck. For the first time in months, since before he had left her porch that day, he felt _home_. He felt _complete_. He felt _right_. She pulled back enough to murmur, "Wanted to be home for Christmas."

He couldn't help the smile, the twinkle in his green eyes as he stared into her perfect brown ones. "That, Miss Gilbert, has to be the absolute corniest thing you've _ever _said."

"It's _romantic_, Mr. Salvatore," she said, smiling softly, and the sight soothed his soul, because how often had she just _smiled _since dying?

"Maybe," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again. She ran her hands through his hair, opened her mouth to him, pressed her body against his because she felt _alive_ again. She finally understood what he always talked about. The only way they could _live_ was with each other. He pulled back to murmur, "If this isn't what you want, Elena, tell me now. I can't take anymore…"

"Neither can I," she said, staring into his eyes, his soul. "Stefan, I love _you_. Not Damon. Not anyone else. You are my home. Forever." She kissed him again, softly, a promise. "I _promise_."

Words betrayed him. Instead, he kissed her. Made love to her. _Loved _her. Because she was _his _home. _His _life. _His _love. _Forever._


End file.
